A Midnight PickUp
by Lament
Summary: Calleigh drives Eric home. Eric-Calleigh.


Title: A Midnight Pick-Up

Disclaimer: Not mine. This is for fun. I'm not making a dime. If they were mine, it would be a very different show. Sigh. Ah well. That's life, right?

Author's Notes: I had originally planned to write something nice and angsty, but this happened instead.

* * *

Never let it be said that Calleigh Duquesne isn't a good friend. Why else would she be driving across town in her pajamas at midnight? 

Half an hour ago, she was tucked into her cozy bed with a good book, the aches and exhaustion she'd been carrying around all day finally beginning to catch up with her. Then her phone rang, and the voice at the other end compelled her to drag herself out of bed and into the night.

Tim called her to pick him up once, about two years ago when he blew a tire on his motorcycle. That night, Calleigh had to drive out to the Everglades at two in the morning, and it took her over an hour to find him. She held _that _over his head for a while, to be sure.

This time, though, she's after Eric. At least _he's_ got himself stranded in a fairly familiar part of town. On the other hand, he's also pretty much inebriated, if the slur in his voice during their phone conversation is any indication. In a way, she'd almost rather be headed to the Glades.

When Calleigh finally pulls into the parking lot of the bar, she sees Eric sitting on the ground, his head in his hands and his back pressed up against the brick building. Letting out a breath, Calleigh turns off the engine, climbs out of her car, and walks over to the disheveled figure.

Squatting down in front of Eric, she says, "Hey there, you."

Eric looks up, startled. "Hey, Cal. I was just talking to you."

"I know," Calleigh says gently. "That's how I knew to come here." She squeezes his shoulder. "Do you have your car with you?"

Eric looks around, as if he's trying to spot his vehicle. After a few seconds, he holds up a finger. "No," he announces.

Calleigh gazes at him. "Are you sure, Eric? Because if you do, we need to make sure it's locked up."

"I'm sure," Eric says.

"All right." Grabbing one of Eric's arms, Calleigh says, "Can you stand up for me?"

"For you? Okay." Eric places on palm onto the brick surface behind him and drags himself onto his feet.

"Okay," Calleigh says, steering Eric toward her car. "Let's get you home."

Eric cranes his neck to look at Calleigh over his shoulder. "Are you coming, too?"

Calleigh bites her lip in an attempt to keep from laughing. "Of course I'm coming, Eric. I have to drive you there."

Nodding vigorously, Eric says, "Thank you."

Calleigh opens the passenger door and deposits Eric into the front seat. "You're welcome" she says.

As she turns to walk away, Eric grabs her by her shirt. "No," he says, staring intently into her eyes. "_Thank you_."

Calleigh pats Eric on the cheek. She should be furious with him right now, but he looks so completely helpless, part of her just wants to smile.

After she loops around the car and climbs into the driver's side, she turns on the engine and glances at the clock on the dash. As late as it is, she'll probably just spend the night at Eric's. That's fine. He has a pretty comfortable couch.

As Calleigh sets her purse onto the floor of the back seat, Eric pokes her arm to get her attention. His head slumped heavily against the headrest, he gazes at Calleigh. "When I first came out of the bar," he says. "I kept trying to find my car, but then I remembered that I left it at home so I wouldn't get hammered and drive."

Well, Calleigh thinks to herself, at least he had _that _much sense.

Eric reaches over and, with his index finger, traces a pattern along Calleigh's bare forearm. "I knew you wouldn't like it if I drove drunk."

"No," I wouldn't have," Calleigh says evenly.

"I was looking out for you," Eric smiles.

Calleigh turns to him. "That was thoughtful, Eric. Put on you seatbelt for me."

Eric stops drawing on Calleigh's arm and closes his eyes.

"Eric, honey," Calleigh says in her most nurturing voice. "You have to put on your seatbelt."

When Eric doesn't move, Calleigh lets out a breath, unfastens her own restraint, and leans over Eric's body to grab his seatbelt. Her side presses against Eric's chest, and she can feel his heartbeat and the rhythm of his breathing and the warmth of his breath. Normally, being this close to Eric would be a source of excitement for Calleigh. But right now, she just wants to slug him.

"You smell good," Eric says suddenly, causing Calleigh to jump and smack into the roof of her car.

Rubbing her head, Calleigh secures Eric's restraint, and then eases herself back into the driver's seat. "It's called shampoo," she says.

"It's nice," Eric says, twirling a piece of Calleigh's hair around his fingers.

Lightly smacking Eric's hand, Calleigh asks, "What brought on your little foray into the bottle, anyway?"

"Hmm?" Eric says sleepily. "Mm. I have a bad life."

"I don't think you're life's that bad."

"I had a bad _day_," Eric amends. "Wolfe's an ass."

Calleigh rolls her eyes. "What happened between you two now?"

Eric doesn't answer. Instead, he closes his eyes and lets his head drop to one side.

Shaking her head, Calleigh gives in to the urge to tenderly caress Eric's cheek for a moment before she pulls out of the parking lot and proceeds toward Eric's condo.

* * *

When they reach Eric's place, Calleigh parks the car, and with an expertise honed by years of having to do this for her dad, she half-drags Eric to his front door. 

"Okay, Eric," she says, propping him against the wall. "Where's your key?"

Eric closes his eyes and lets his body slide down the wall. "I don't know," he says. After a few seconds, he pokes his hand into a shirt pocket and fishes out some change, a stick of gum, and his cell phone. He deposits the items onto the ground and stares blankly at them for a few seconds before closing his eyes.

Letting out a breath, Calleigh kneels down in front of Eric and searches the pockets of his jeans and shirt. Finally, she finds the keys in one of the front pockets of his jeans. Rolling her eyes, she shoves her hand into his jeans pocket and extracts the keys. At the touch, Eric opens his eyes and flashes a sloppy grin.

Scooping up the items Eric took out of his pocket, Calleigh stands up and opens Eric's door. She flips on the light and chucks the change, phone, and mints onto a table by the door. Then, she places her hands under Eric's arms and drags him into a standing position.

"All right," she says. "Do you have to go to the bathroom?"

"No," Eric says.

"Are you sure, Eric?"

"I'm sure."

"It's late," she says. "I'm going to sleep on your couch, all right? I'll get us up early so I can go home and get changed."

Eric rubs his thumb against her cheek. "Cal," he mutters. "You sleep with me. Okay?"

Calleigh clamps her teeth down on her bottom lip. "You know what? I think I'll just stay out here. But, I want to get you to bed."

Steering Eric into the bedroom, Calleigh dumps him onto the bed with a thud. Worn out, she drops onto the mattress beside him and lets out a breath. At least she'll sleep well tonight, as tired as she's going to be after she gets him to bed.

Eric and Calleigh sit side by side on Eric's bed in comfortable silence. After a few minutes, Eric leans closer and brushes his lips against Calleigh's cheek. Then, he scoots his body closer and clumsily plants his lips against Calleigh's. In spite of herself, Calleigh leans into the kiss. She can taste the liquor on Eric's breath and feel the scratch from his burgeoning razor stubble. Fleetingly, Calleigh wonders what Eric would look like with facial hair.

In a few seconds, when Calleigh's brain decides to call her attention to what's going on, she clamps a hand on each of Eric's shoulders and pushes him back. "Eric, no," she says.

"Why not?" Eric asks blearily. "I want it. You want it. We could ask the around at the lab. I don't think anybody would mind."

Calleigh covers her mouth as she feels a laugh escape her lips. Dammit. Dammit. Of course he'd wait until he's drunk to get frisky.

Nudging him until he's lying on his back, Calleigh says, "All right. Let's get your shoes off." With both hands, she lifts one of Eric's legs and tugs off his tennis shoe. Then, she lets that leg drop and works on the other shoe.

"Cal," Eric says in a muffled voice.

"Just a second," Calleigh says. When she finally looks up, she bursts out laughing. Eric's shirt is pulled halfway over his head, and his arms are tangled up in the sleeves

"Not funny," Eric whines.

"It is so funny," she giggles. "Here, sweetie. Let me help." Calleigh puts on knee on the bed and tries to pry Eric's shirt the rest of the way over his head.

"Wait," he grouses. "You're gonna take off an arm!"

"Well, stop struggling," she giggles. "Stop." Finally, she manages to peel the shirt off, revealing a panting but uninjured Eric.

Setting the shirt on the mattress beside her, Calleigh grabs Eric by one arm. "Scoot up so you can lay your head on the pillow."

"C'mere," Eric says, waving his arm wildly. "I can't do it."

Calleigh climbs onto the bed, resting her weight on her knees. She leans forward and tries to guide Eric's head onto the pillow. "There," she declares. "Now, you get some rest."

With a tug on her shoulder, Eric pulls Calleigh down for another kiss, wrapping his arms around her shoulders.

Placing the palm of one hand on the mattress for leverage, Calleigh extracts herself from Eric's arms. "No, you don't mister. You're drunk, and we're not going there."

As Calleigh backs off the bed, Eric mumbles, "I love you, Cal."

At Eric's words, Calleigh feels a flush in her cheeks. Clearing her throat, she picks up Eric's wind-up alarm clock and heads toward the door. Swallowing, Calleigh stops suddenly and says, "I love you, too, Eric."

Calleigh gazes at Eric for a few seconds. She watches as he snuggles further into his pillows, eyes tightly closed. Letting out a breath, Calleigh turns to head into the living room. But just before she flips off the light, she glances back at Eric and sees a peaceful smile ghost across his face.


End file.
